more than enough
by deceptivelycomplex3925
Summary: She needs Emma to know how wrong she is.


**I'm not sure what this is.**

"Are you _faulting_ me for that?"

Dark brown eyes glitter with unshed tears and a head of even darker hair tilts back in wounded shock, hurt at the implication in the previously stated words.

"What – Regina, no I – Jesus. _No_! I'm – that's not – "

Hands shoot up to tangle themselves in golden rich curls and there's a deep, strangled exhale. As if meant to be borne of pure frustration (because god _damn it_ this isn't coming out at _all_ like it's supposed to) on the way up but had somehow morphed to become one of utter anguish as it fell past thin, bare lips.

Tears slip past tightly shut emerald eyes and there's a sharp intake of a breath at the effort to keep any more from escaping.

"_Regina_."

And there's that sound again. Strangled.

Misty, albeit bright, green eyes open to meet melted chocolate ones, glistening with tears of their own and Emma's breath catches at the sight.

Regina crying, _vulnerable_, is probably one of the most painfully beautiful things she's ever witnessed.

Regina, even in tears and sorrow, is quite literally breathtaking.

"I'm not _faulting_ you for telling me how you feel. I get that – I mean, I feel the same way. Obviously."

Emma internally screams at herself for her inability to express her feelings in any capacity without it sounding like something tumbling out of a fourth grader's mouth.

She exhales another puff of aggravated air and brings her gaze back up to Regina's, whose head is now tilted in confusion and concern rather than hurt and anger, as she tries to sync her chaotic thoughts with the words forming on her mouth.

Because she needs Regina to know this. Regina, who has been through more than any one person should _ever_ have to. Regina, whose heart could lift mountains if it so pleased. Regina, who loves with every ounce of her being – every ounce of her soul. Regina, who deserves the world and the stars and everything in between. Regina, who most definitely deserves someone more than a blue-collared ex con who doesn't know the first thing about how to love someone properly.

"This isn't – that's not the point I'm trying to make. I'm not – I – I'm telling you that I'm no good for you. I don't _deserve_ you, Regina. God. You deserve _so_ much more than me."

Her words are wobbly, trembling as is her entire body.

And there's a tentative step forward, the click of a high-heel against the marble of the foyer. The outstretch of an olive-toned hand. A soft, understanding, apologetic '_Emma'_ falling past plum lips before the hand stills at the sudden panic now swirling in those tempestuous sea green eyes.

Regina knows that look.

Emma's about to run.

Emma backs away, a jerky clumsy movement and Regina's heart twists at the self-loathing glittering back at her – the fear there, unbridled and twitching with its intensity.

And this time when Emma's name falls from her lips it's laden with tears, with an almost suffocating kind of dread. The kind that turns your blood to ice, makes your heart feel as if it's about to splinter right down the center, crack open and spill its contents – stain everything a deep crimson. Her skin prickles and her fingers curl a bit because _no._ _No, you cannot leave me, Emma Swan._

"Emma?"

"I'm no good for you."

And it's the way she says it. As if she's said it so many times in her own head that it's just a commonplace fact. One that she believes wholeheartedly. One she's convinced herself to believe.

It's _that_ which makes her heart constrict painfully again – feels it straining at the seams. Because _god_ is she wrong.

So completely _wrong._

And she wants to tell her that. She needs Emma to know how wrong she is, to show her. She wants to reach out to her, wants to thread her fingers through those unkempt but delicious curls and kiss away her fear, her pain, her doubts. She wants to hug her. Love her. Keep her. And she wants to do so for the rest of her life.

But words won't come to her. She has _so_ many she has to say but it's as if they're stuck in her throat and there's just this huge lump of disorganized words and syllables that she can't seem to get out or swallow down.

There's only one word that does make its way out, one word that fights its way out of that lump and past her lips.

"Emma."

It comes out a whisper, loaded and firm and she tries to put all of those stupid jumbled up words into those two syllables and hope that Emma understands, _knows_, she's all Regina has ever wanted.

And then she's moving forward again, her hand still outstretched as Emma steps back. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. Until there's a wall pressing firmly into Emma's spine and two warm, strong – so _strong_ – hands are cupping her face.

"_Emma_," she breathes again, the name like a reverence on her tongue, a soft smile on her lips. A light brush of a thumb to catch a tear as it rolls past a closed eye and down a pale cheek.

She says her name again and it's a question. A request.

And when it's denied Regina leans forward and brushes her lips across a closed eyelid, pressing a gentle kiss to the bone just above.

There's a small, surprised gasp and emerald eyes fly open just as another feather-light kiss presses to the skin of her forehead.

"You're more than enough," a whispered exhale there.

The tip of her nose.

"I want you."

Her right cheekbone.

"I need you."

Her left cheekbone.

"I _love_ _you_."

The corner of her mouth. Which parts on a shaky inhale.

"Emma, _I love you_."

And hands that had been in fists so tight there were half-crest moon marks in her palms shoot up and grab at and tangle in dark silky locks.

Her forehead falls forward to rest against Regina's.

A sob. A strangled sob.

But this time out of sheer astonishment. Relief. _Happiness._

"I love you too," she whispers before she surges forward to capture those dark plump lips between her own, Regina's whispered words echoing in her mind, solid and real and _true._

"_I love you too_," she whispers into her lips once more, tightening her hands in Regina's hair when she feels her smile into their kiss.


End file.
